Bedtime Stories by Amumu
by Crowha
Summary: Amumu is alone. He has no friends, and no family. He has nobody to play with, nobody to talk to, nobody to hug, nobody to give him a goodnight kiss...and nobody to read him bedtime stories. So he wrote his own.
1. The man and the bird

The man and the bird.

There was once a little boy, who was very bored. He didn't have any friends since he didn't like to play. He spent most of his days alone, at school or in his room. But one day, he found a book. It was very big, and very old. It was quite hard to read at first, but with the time, the boy started to understand more and more. The book taught him many things, things he'd never learn at school. It was all about a special craftsmanship, one that nobody had ever heard of. The boy studied, and studied. And once he thought he knew enough, he started crafting.

First he built a tiny skeleton, out of steel, that would hold the entire body, and never break. Then, he made muscles, out of gold, the metal bending around the shiny bones so the body could move. Then, he covered the whole body with a skin, made out of silk, that was so soft it could make any man's heart melt. Finally, he added a beak of ivory, and two diamond eyes. Satisfied, he looked down at the little being he had built. It was a shiny sparrow. The bird looked up to him, and jumped around on the table, chirping happily. The boy was filled with pride and joy: he finally had a companion. But he knew his job was only half way done. The little bird couldn't fly, as the boy hadn't made him any feathers. Those were the hardest and longest to craft, but the boy didn't lose his motivation.

Years passed. He had grown into a young adult and had a good job. But his days were grey. His job was boring, his family was boring, the town was grey and so was the sky. But the boy didn't care. He knew what awaited him each time he made it through another day. Each time he came back from work, each time he opened the door to his little apartment, each time, the bird was there, and greeted him with a cheerful chirp. And with that chirp, the world lightened up. The boy suddenly noticed the colours, the smells and the sounds, and he was filled with joy. He would leave his work behind, go to his table, and start crafting again. And every day, he would craft a new feather. Each one was unique, both in form and in colour. And each one was more beautiful than the last.

One day, he finally crafted the last feather. It was the most beautiful of all, so bright and shiny it was hard to look at. The boy decided to put her right on top of the bird's head, so one could see it from every side. He looked down at the bird, and the bird looked back at him. They both shared the same feeling, a joy so intense it seemed hard to keep in. The boy carefully took the bird in his hand, and carried him to the window. He opened it slowly, as if he wanted to remember his every movement. The bird spread his wings. With one flap, it was high in the sky. And as it flew, the skies seemed to part. Light spread, the town suddenly took colours the boy had never seen before, and, for the first time in his life, the boy felt the sunlight dancing over his skin. He felt warm. He felt happy. He swore to himself never to close that window ever again, and, with one last look at this beautiful new world, he went back to bed.

When he woke up the next morning, everything was silent. He looked at the walls, he looked at the ceiling…everything was grey. He stood up, slowly, and looked at the table where the bird usually waited for him. And right there, o the table, sat a big, fat, cat. The bird's body was between his fangs, unanimated. Overwhelmed by sudden emotions, the boy wanted to rush forward and grab the cat. But he had a hard time even making a single step forward. As he looked back at the cat, the table seemed way higher than usual. With great effort, he managed to raise his arms, but the cat jumped out of reach. Looking at his hands, the boy suddenly noticed how wrinkled and used they were. He wanted to run, but he was panting after only a few steps. The cat gave him a disdainful look. He chewed on the bird's body one last time, and dropped it on the floor before he jumped out of the open window. The boy fell to his knees, which creaked dangerously, and slowly crawled towards the body. He took it into his trembling hands, and pressed the little bird against his heart. Lying down, the boy closed his eyes. He could still hear the tiny heart beating. It was very fast at first, but then it gradually slowed down, until it finally matched his own. One-two, one-two…one-two…one…


	2. The chestnut and the acorn

The chestnut and the acorn

There was once a big forest in which all the trees were friends.

One day, a chestnut and an acorn fell to the ground, just a few inches from each other. They soon became, friends, and decided to grow together. They had their first buds at the same time, compared their first leaves in spring, and shared their grief in autumn. They grew side by side, and they were the closest friends in the world. All the trees around them were very big, so high that the two friends could not speak to them. But they didn't care, as they had each other, and were happy with it.

One day, their intimate conversation led them to talk about their secret dreams.

"When I get older, I want to grow as tall as all the other trees in the forest, so I can become friends with everyone. I also want to have the most beautiful leaves in the entire forest, a crown with shades of green so pretty every bird will come to make his nest between my branches." The chestnut confessed.

"When I get older, I want to grow into the biggest tree in the entire forest. I want to be taller and larger than everyone, so all the other trees will look up to me and admire me. I also want to grow high enough to speak to the sun, as it is the most beautiful being of all." Answered the acorn.

Happy they could trust each other and share such intimacy, the two young trees decided to support each other so they could make both their dreams come true. Soon, the young chestnut-tree started to grow many leaves, large and shiny green. Some were prettier than others, but each year his crown became more beautiful. The young oak also followed his dream, and grew higher and higher. Since their sizes were so different, it had become harder for them to speak, but the two friends didn't worry: the chestnut-tree could see his friend's trunk become thicker and thicker, and each time the oak looked down, he met with the beautiful sight of his friend's ever-changing crown. They knew they were both reaching their goals, and it made them both very happy.

Years passed, and the oak finally broke through the forest's ceiling. For the first time, he could see the clear sky, and he was filled with pride: his dream was at hand's reach. Sadly, he couldn't look at his friend anymore, as the other trees blocked his way, but he felt his friend look on him, and he knew he too was doing his best. That thought reassured him, and gave him the motivation to continue. But he knew he'd still have to grow before he could reach the sun. So he spread his crown as wide as he could, and grew.

He became bigger, and bigger, and bigger. The clouds seemed to come closer every day.

Finally, when he felt the wind was so strong it could blow him over, he looked up into the sky, and shouted:

"Sun! Beautiful Sun! You are the most beautiful of all. Look at how much I've grown. I was but an acorn on the ground, but I'm now standing in front of you. Please hear my call!"

But the sun didn't answer.

So the oak started to grow again. Finally, when he felt the cold clouds tickling his branches, he looked up again, and shouted:

"Sun! Beautiful Sun! You are the most beautiful of all. Look at how much I've grown. I was but a shrub, trembling in the wind, but I'm now standing in front of you. Please hear my call!"

But again, the sun didn't answer.

So the oak continued growing. His crown grew so wide he couldn't see the land anymore.

Finally, when he was so high he could barely breathe, he looked up and panted:

"Sun! Beautiful Sun! …"

But a sudden pain at his base interrupted him. The pain grew fast as cold steel dug into his flesh. Confused as he couldn't see what was happening, the oak raised his voice again:

"Sun! Beautiful Sun! ..."

But again, he was interrupted. This time, it was an earth-shattering creak. And before he could say one more word, the sky above him spun and the Sun was gone.

The oak was falling. He reached the ground loudly. Desperate, he looked up, but all he could see was a cloud-covered sky. The Sun was gone. But something felt out of place. He knew the ground he was now lying on, as he had lied there long ago, with his friend. But never had the sky been so clear.

The lying tree looked around him, and understood. All the trees were dead. They stood there, raising their naked branches like famished hands to the sky. The light that his crown had for too long kept for himself was now shining down on their dead fingers, and the oak was filled with guilt. He desperately looked around, trying to find his friend. But he had been cut down, and his vision was slowly getting blurry. His consciousness was fading.

He spotted him right before everything went black. The chestnut-tree was standing right by his side, like he always had. He was the smallest tree in the forest. His bark had turned grey, and not a single leaf grew on his dead branches. A lonely, unfinished bird-nest was lying on top of the rotting wood, the only crown the chestnut would ever get.


End file.
